


Assembling

by Moviemaniacgirl



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-23 21:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moviemaniacgirl/pseuds/Moviemaniacgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark is not supposed to be in High School, he's too smart and he's being bullied. A new teacher comes to teach at his high school: Steve Rogers. Steve doesn't like it when people are unhappy, or when people are being bullied. This is the story of how the avengers manage to stand behind Steve (with help from some x-men) to save Tony Stark from his parents, from his peers, and from everything that's wrong with his life. </p><p>Tony Non-con w/ Marvel characters (pretty oc though)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Steve Rogers took a deep breath before entering Pittridge High School. It was the day before classes would begin, and he needed to finish setting up his classroom and go to the last of his “mandatory togetherness and correct conduct” meetings. The administration required (thus the use of the word mandatory) all teachers and faculty attend these the week before school each year. 

This was going to be his first year teaching, and he was going to be teaching the Senior class—this terrified Steve more than any other grade level because the Seniors had been on campus three years. This was three years more than Steve had, and the students would eat him alive if he showed any naivety or the slightest amount of leniency. The problem with this was just how lenient and understanding Steve was. 

“Steve! Come on, don’t want to be late,” Jean Gray, the assistant principle under Principle Xavier, called out while walking into the school—coffee cup in one hand, papers and some sort of iPad in the other. Steve smiled at her, cheeks red, and followed her into the conference room. 

 

“In conclusion, I want you all to trust one another—help each other when the year gets going. But don’t forget that the reason you are teaching is to also help the students when the year gets going. And finally, please—I’m begging you all—remember that the students must be treated with respect. We are trying to not only make this the best four years of their lives, but keep their parents—who I remind you are very temperamental—happy, so that they can spend ALL four years here with us. Thank you, you are dismissed,” Charles Xavier smiled broadly at the room, and wheeled himself towards Jean, who was scribbling down the final moments of the meeting on her clipboard. Xavier was a pleasure to work with, and Steve could not imagine a better Principle for the students, all of whom came from either rich families where parents were often not nearly as friendly and comforting as he was or from places that required students were given massive scholarships to attend. 

Steve rubbed the back of his neck anxiously when he turned to see all of the teachers in pods, discussing their summers and the upcoming days. He knew absolutely no one outside of their name and role at the school. 

“Rogers, right?” Steve jumped slightly and turned to face a red-haired woman who he believed was Ms. Romanov, though her first name eluded him. She was very straight-forward and he hadn’t seen her smile once thus far. 

“Yes, I’m Steve Rogers,” holding out his hand, Steve smiled nervously at her, trying to remember if she taught Russian or Physical Education. “I’m going to be teaching Senior American History and American English.”

“I’m Natasha Romanov. I teach Russian and Martial Arts. Also, I am assistant Dean of Students,” She grasped his hand tightly and shook one firm time and then dropped her hand to her side. 

“It’s great to meet you.” All he got in reply was a stiff nod of her head before a man, slightly shorter than Natasha, strode to her side and held out his hand. Steve shook it quickly and smiled. 

“I’m Clint. I teach European History. You’re, Steve?” Steve nodded, and Clint smiled briefly before his face returned passive. His eyes were darting around the room, but Steve felt like his attention was still painfully directed at him. 

“Um… I was wondering if you guys would mind catching me up on anything I need to know… I mean stuff that isn’t in the seminar, per se?” Natasha and Clint shared a look before Clint turned to his side and beckoned several more teachers over. 

“Firstly, this is Thor, he teaches Mythology and Shakespeare, this is Dr. Banner, chemistry, physics, and calculus are his cup of tea, and finally, this is Coulson, he’s the Dean of Students.” Steve smiled and nodded at each of them in turn. “If you have any questions, ask one of them or myself and Natasha.”

“Thank you… I guess. Are there any students I should look out for? Problem cases that I shouldn’t let get to me?” Steve’s hands shook slightly at his sides; he felt very large in front of this group of teachers; all staring at him and all very vigilant. 

“Loki, he’s a big problem kid, but he won’t get in your way much, he tends not to go to his history classes.” Banner supplied quickly. 

“Be wary of Obadiah Stane. He is both a tormenter of youth and a boy of great mind. He is a danger to our school and our children. Be wary indeed, Sir Rogers!” Thor shouted beside Natasha, who didn’t even flinch, and Steve’s widening eyes caused Clint to snicker behind his hand. 

“Don’t mind Thor, he talks like that. It’s his thing.” Steve smiled and suddenly he didn’t feel nervous about the next day. He felt like he might… belong. 

 

 

“Hello class, my name is Mr. Rogers. I am going to be teaching many of you both American History and English this year, but this is American History. We are going to span the beginning days of colonization all the way up to present day. We will explore the whys and the hows while applying everything we learn to today’s world. Before this begins, I’d like to get to know all of you a little better. I know the “write your name on a card” bit has gotten old, but humor me. I’d like each of you to write your name, birthday, favorite color, favorite subject, and a fun fact about yourself on a card. Don’t worry, I’ll be the only one to see it. I’d just like to—yes?” Steve stopped when a girl in the front row raised her hand.

“Mr. Rogers, is this worth points?”

“No. This is just an exercise for my benefit.” 

The class passed by quickly, with very little else said from the students, and at the end he collected all of the cards and assigned the homework, immediately thereafter the room cleared. There was an assembly for the students that would take up the next hour, so Steve sat down and began to get to know his students. 

 

Raven Darkholme-Xavier  
September 14th, 1994  
Color: Blue or Yellow/ Subject: Drama  
I am Charles Xavier’s adopted Younger Sister, but there is no need to treat me as such

 

Nina Smith  
April 28th, 1995  
Pink and History  
I really like animals

 

Hank McCoy  
January 9th, 1995  
Color: Blue / Subject: Math  
I’m really good at science and math

 

Tony Stark  
Why do you want my birthday?  
Maybe red  
Not History or English  
I’m not that interesting

 

Steve stopped here and reread Tony Stark’s card several times over. He wasn’t sure if he should smile or not. The card was clearly not something Tony wanted to do, but he’d done it anyway. Steve stood without thinking and jogged to the teacher’s lounge—forgetting Tony’s card was still in his hand. 

“Whoa, what’s the rush there Rogers?” Clint asked as Steve burst through the door. 

“I… I… I guess it’s actually stupid now that I’m here.” Steve blushed stupidly and looked down at his hand. 

“Nothing you find important is stupid, Sir Rogers. I would like to hear your words!” Thor yelled from across the room. 

“Well, I was just wondering what the story is with Tony Stark?” Steve was surprised when all of the heads of his new friends turned to him—all with varying expressions: Natasha’s face twistedly calm, Clint’s right eyebrow raised, Thor’s lips a frown, Banner’s face wary, and Coulson’s eyes downcast. “What’s… what’s wrong?”

Coulson cleared his throat tiredly, “I guess it’s just hard seeing someone like Tony have to sit here every day. He’s too intelligent to be beaten with the same stuff every year; God, that kid should’ve been out of college by now. The only problem is his parents don’t want to have him… well appear different, I guess.”

“Well they should take him out of a school where he’s beaten mercilessly for being who is he,” Dr. Banner was suddenly on his feet. His face was almost green with rage, and he was breathing too quickly. Natasha stepped towards him and put her hand on his shoulder; he slumped back into his chair. “It’s just the worst seeing an intelligent kid get bullied by peers, when he’s probably getting abused at home too. Or worse…”

“And have you tried to help him?”

“Steve, you have to understand, his parents are the Starks. We’ve tried the police, Xavier’s tried everything he can. This is just too big for us to get him out of,” Banner said quietly from his seated position. 

“But—I…” Steve sighed and sat down on the plush couch next to Banner and put his hands over his face, “Is it that bad?”

“Yes.” Natasha’s voice cut through the room, and Steve wanted to throw a chair against the wall. How could someone—especially a child’s parent—beat a child, and no one have the ability to stop it? Steve breathed in slowly, and turned away from everyone. 

“There’s nothing you can do. Just try to make his class interesting, if you can,” Bruce’s voice was rough and almost guttural, but somehow the words stilled the room even more. Steve’s shoulder tensed and he vowed to himself then and there that he would care; that there would be something he could do. 

“Thank you, but I think it’s time for me to go back to class,” Steve forced a smile before all but running from the room and back to his classroom. Once he sat at his desk he let out a small and quivering sigh. 

 

Two weeks into the school year, and Steve was already more exhausted than he’d been in his entire life. He was both overwhelmed with work and the stupidity of many of the students, yet he tried to stay composed and helpful so that the class, especially Tony, would feel at ease around him. Sadly, it appeared he was not succeeding, as Tony was quiet, annoyed, and almost always the last into class, and the first out. 

“Please, just be quiet everyone. It’s going to be a long day if you don’t control yourselves.” Steve must’ve sounded as aggravated as he was, because the room fell into silence within seconds. “Thank you. Now please, relax and let me take roll. Suzy?”

“Here.”

“Raven?”

“Yup.”

“Ezra?” 

“Here.”

“Lily and Linda?”

“Here and here!”

“Hank?”

“Uh huh.”

“Alex?”

“Here.”

“Nathan?”

“Right here.”

“Pepper?”

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, Pepper. Tony?”

“…”

“Tony? Does anyone know where Tony is?”

“He was here this morning Mr. Rogers. I saw him a few minutes before class; maybe he’s in the bathroom.” Pepper’s voice was unwavering, but her face was anything but; something was wrong, and she wasn’t telling him.

“Pepper, please come up here for a minute. Loki?”

“Loki isn’t here,” Suzy spoke from the front of the room, with a large grin, and her obvious crush on Steve flaring ridiculously.

“Thank you Suzy, now class, please take a few minutes to pull out the homework and get to work on the quick write,” Steve turned from the class to look at Pepper who was now standing beside the desk. “Pepper, where is Tony?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Rogers.”

“Pepper… you’re his best friend. Do you know?”

“I really don’t.” Pepper let her voice drop to a whisper now, “But… I might have an idea.”

“If you have any idea where he might be, it’s in your and his best interest to tell me.” Steve put on his teacher face, stern yet kind, and hoped to God that Tony was safe.

“Well… Loki isn’t here, and that can only mean one thing… that he and Sebastian Shaw are skipping class.”

“And…?”

“That means that they probably… well I don’t want to blame them… they might not be…”

“Pepper. What. Does. That. Mean?”

“That they have Tony held up somewhere on campus.”

“Where do you think they’d be?” Pepper looked away from Steve then, and frowned, “Pepper, please. If you even think you know, tell me.”

“The locker room.”

“Are you sure?”

Pepper looked up now: “Yes.”

“I’m going to call a substitute, please watch the class until he arrives.” Steve stood then, Pepper nodded at him once, and he walked towards the phone. 

“Please bring in Mr. Alvarez; I have an important errand that must be run at once…. Yes… Yes… Thank you.” He turned then to the class, “Would everyone please listen to Pepper until Mr. Alvarez arrives? I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

The entire class began to talk animatedly—and quietly—about what was pulling the cute new teacher out of the classroom this quickly. A girlfriend? A wife? 

 

Steve had never been in the gym before, let alone the boy’s locker room, but when he entered into the building he could feel the tension. He found the door within seconds and burst in. He never imagined what he found would be as horrendously gruesome as it was. 

“Tell us that you like it—oh, Mr. Rogers.” Loki turned from his position over Tony and smirked at Steve. “I didn’t hear you come in.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short, and sorry it took so long. I'm always swamped with work, but come June there will be frequent updates. :)

Tony Stark groaned in pain when Loki threw him against a row of lockers. He let out a gasp when Shaw trailed a finger up his spine and began licking the skin from his collar bone to the base of his ear, leaving hickeys as he went. 

 

“Please, Shaw, just not today. My dad is going to be home. He’ll notice. Please, Loki, can’t this happen tomorrow instead? I promise I’ll let you guys do whatever you want, as long as you want, just not today.” Tony turned red, but continued to beg. 

 

Loki chuckled, and sat on the bench across from Tony’s crumpled body. Shaw stayed poised above him, and continued to trace the contours of his lightly bruised back with his finger, sometimes pausing to scratch, or draw blood. 

 

“What do you think, Sebastian? Do you think we let him go?” Loki played lazily with the shirt he had in his hands—Tony’s favorite Iron Maiden t-shirt that had been torn off only moments before. “I don’t like the sound of it. Kinda sounds like he’s telling us what to do, and I don’t like that one bit.” Loki paused then and dropped the shirt. He stood up and Shaw moved aside. “I think I’d like to continue forth as planned.”

 

Tony shuddered, but remained silent as Loki pushed him to his hands and knees. Shaw took a seat on the bench Loki had been on and leaned backwards against the second row of lockers. He smiled, and prepared himself for the show. 

 

“I want to hear you say my name, Stark. I want to hear you enjoy it.” Loki dropped his pants and boxers, and then took off Tony’s with more force. He pressed Tony’s face to the ground, and whispered, “You’re gonna beg for it.” 

 

Then he lined himself up, and began slowly pumping in and out of Tony. Each push was agony, even though Tony was physically able to handle it by now. Still, it never got easier to feel the hands in his hair, or on his stomach, inching towards his dick. It was sickening, but he didn’t eat enough to vomit in disgust. 

 

“Tony, you heard me. Say my name. Tell us that you like it—oh, Mr. Rogers.” Tony felt Loki stop now, and suddenly every inch of self-respect that Tony had left inside of him died. He was being fucked on the floor of a boy’s locker room in front of the new teacher—the only teacher that didn’t see him as a sob-story. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

 

 

Steve couldn’t breathe for several seconds when he saw Loki atop Tony on the floor. When he finally was able to breathe it was still a labored effort. 

 

“… T-Tony. I-,” 

 

“Don’t start, Mr. Rogers, Tony doesn’t care what you say. It doesn’t matter anyway, not if my father has anything to say about it, that is.” Loki continued smirking, but also began to push in and out of Tony again with a renewed vigor. Tony whimpered and clenched his fists in pain, but didn’t say anything. 

 

Blind, white hot rage overtook Steve at this point, and he bounded across the room to take Loki by his neck and pull him away from Tony and force him up against a locker. “You are nothing but a disgusting rat. You are the lowest of all the filth in the world, and you will get what is coming to you, Loki. I will make sure of it.” Steve stopped and bashed Loki’s head up against the locker once before turning around and stopping Shaw from escaping. “You too Sebastian. There will be no escape from punishment for either of you, I guarantee.” 

 

Steve took both of the boys, one hand wrapped around each of their necks, and pushed them into a shower stall, which he then closed and pried shut. He turned around to see Tony feebly trying to put his clothes back on. 

 

“Tony, may I help you with that?” 

 

“Y-You don’t have to.” 

 

“I’d like to. You’re very hurt, and I think you need help.” Steve slowly approached Tony and helped pull his boxers up over his bruised legs. He then helped slide the torn shirt back over his bleeding back, and finally helped pull his pants up and secure them around his hips—covered in finger-shaped bruises, both fresh and old. “Tony, I’m not going to let them do this again, okay?” 

 

“I know you mean well, Mr. Rogers, but it’s not going to work that way.”

 

“No, Tony, I promise.”

 

“Please, I’m not ten, don’t make a promise you know you can’t keep.”

 

“I didn’t.” 

 

Tony smiled slightly before his perpetual frown came back into place. Steve tenderly helped Tony up from the ground, and picked him up without any effort and walked him up to Professor Xavier’s office. 

 

 

Hours had passed since Tony had been found by Steve, and he had gone through a long and very text-book talk with Professor X and his father. When he returned home his dad beat him for getting his peers in trouble, and proceeded to fuck him mercilessly like he deserved. Tony day-dreamed that he was with Pepper, or Mr. Rogers, somewhere with rain and somewhere without this never-ending pain, where he could explain to them why he was being punished, and that even though most people didn’t deserve this, he did. Tony hated to see Mr. Rogers look at him like he was a victim. Tony knew that he was not a victim, but he was just getting punished for everything that’d he’d done wrong—he wasn’t smart enough, good enough, big enough, or successful enough to be proud of himself, or to really matter like other people did. 

 

“Master Tony, would you like another blanket?” JARVIS could always tell when Tony had had a rough day, and Tony nodded gratefully.

 

“Thank you, JARVIS. You always seem to know.”

 

“You programmed me to know, sir. You did a good job.” 

 

Tony sighed, good isn’t always enough.


End file.
